


Taunting a White Wolf

by RedRiotsLeftNut



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Witcher - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Embarrassment, Established Relationship, F/M, Femdom, Jealous Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jealousy, Masturbation, Multi, Orgasm Control, Overhearing Sex, Pegging, Pet Names, Punishment, Reader-Insert, Smut, Spanking, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28724469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRiotsLeftNut/pseuds/RedRiotsLeftNut
Summary: A female Witcher appears one evening in Jaskier and Zoltan's pub, come brothel. Geralt is surprised to discover not only a female Witcher, but one that appears to be intimately acquainted with his bard...and well, if his Witcher hearing manages to catch some of that intimacy through no fault of his own...The Path may be a lonely one, especially when you only have your hand for company.Geralt has a 'type'.Yet another (female) reader insert...because something about big strong stoic men just makes you want to bring them to their knees, right?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader, Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 108





	Taunting a White Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Playing a bit fast and loose with some characterization, places, Witcher schools...it's porn with a sniff of plot if you're looking. So take that as fair warning, though I at least attempted to keep it cannon-ish.
> 
> Note: This is a work of fanfiction using characters from the TV/book series 'The Witcher'. All characters, places, monsters, etc are belonging to the creators/licensers of this content.

The Chameleon was lit in a warm, low light. One just as conductive to drinking away an evening, as it was to the women looking to make their coin off those aiming to drink away said evening. 

Geralt always found himself a room at the brothel, free of charge, since it had come into Jaskier’s ownership. Though company was extra. It was a nice change from the hard ground and elements, or the less than friendly atmosphere he was usually accustomed to. 

“...another Witcher about so I hear.” Zoltan finished

“Hmm?” Geralt really wished he had been paying more attention to the conversation for once, as he exchanged some coin for his tankard of ale

“Aye, a female one at that.” As if oblivious to the ignorance of the Witcher before him Zoltan continued his rather one sided conversation. “Make of it what ye will. Though I thought your lot were all men.”

It was then, that Jaskier decided to break away from playing the ever attentive host chattering away to his patrons, and slot himself into the conversation.

“Couldn't help but overhear” He ignored Geralt's derisive huff “What was that about a female Witcher?”

“One of the men came in here earlier this evenin' ramblin' on about how some female Witcher 'ad cleared out his farm of an Endrega infestation one town over. Now look, don' get me wrong, if someone's out there doin' Witcher's work, an' doin' it well, more power to 'em. Ain't like we got a shortage of monsters. But to go so far as to pretend to actually be a Witcher...”

Jaskier cut Zoltan off, eyes shining excitedly “I can assure you she is most certainly the real deal. The two swords, eyes glowing like a fire's embers cutting through the darkest of nights...”

“Bard.” Geralt growled, already knowing that once Jaskier got waxing poetic it was hard to bring him back to the world of the living.

“Right, right.” the bard muttered, hand fluttering to almost nervously smooth his hair “But that means she should be coming here...”

And almost as though fate had timed things perfectly, the door swung open and in strode a disheveled, yet still decidedly female, Witcher. If Geralt had been one to doubt her existence, he couldn't argue that which stood before him clear as day. Far beyond the black studded leather armor, the School of the Cat medallion about her neck, or the dual swords she carried that signaled her a Witcher. To another Witcher, it was the unnaturally glowing golden eyes with slitted pupils like a cat, the steady and unnaturally slow heartbeat in her chest, and the way that she surveyed the entire room, weighting up any dangers with a glance, that truly gave the claims to her lineage any weight. Her face brightened as her eyes fell upon Jaskier. She entered the tavern beneath the brothel and strode over, pulling the bard into a tight hug

“Oh little lark it has been far too long!” She exclaimed as she broke the embrace “I hope you're well.”  
Geralt prickled slightly at the singular focus she seemed to have for the bard as he finished his ale. It was unimportant, but surely the rarity of coming across another Witcher should outweigh any other company. He pushed the thought from his mind just as quickly as it had snuck in there.

“Yes...fine...I...yes I'm doing well” Geralt raised a brow at the uncharacteristic loss for words of his usually mouthy, cock-sure friend. He didn't miss the smirk that accompanied the behavior from the other Witcher as she she ruffled Jaskier's hair.

The bard lowered his eyes and it was then that she looked over to appraise Geralt.

“It's not often one crosses paths with another Witcher” murmered the female Witcher as she smoothed her hand over the nape of Jaskier's neck. Geralt noticed the near imperceptible shudder that ran through the bard's body at the action. “I'm Y/N.” she offered, holding out a hand.

“Geralt.” he took note of the strength in her grip. Surprising for a woman of her stature, though not so much for a Witcher he supposed.

“Of course, the legendary 'White Wolf' Jaskier raves about. Well then Geralt, please join me for dinner and drink? It would be pleasant to spend time in like company after all.”

Who was Geralt to turn down a free meal? Life on the road was a solitary one, and dining with another Witcher was at least a comforting indulgence. No hard words, snide glances, or being spat upon for starters. He nodded in acquiescence and she began to lead them to a table in one of the darker corners of the tavern. Something with their backs to the wall and a clear view of all points of exit and entry. Witcher habits die hard it seemed.

“Lark? Something to eat for Geralt and myself, something to drink too. You know what I like.” 

The bard nodded quickly, and was off like a shot. Geralt had noted Jaskier's dilated pupils and escalated heart rate. He could have mistaken the reaction as fear if he had not also detected the mild scent of arousal beginning to emanate from the bard.

Interesting.

“Tell me Geralt, what brings you to Novigrad?”

Geralt shifted when the woman's singular focus was now directed towards him as they sat “Nothing exciting. Witcher work.” He felt bad, embarrassed even, for the short responses. However life on the road was not exactly conductive to practicing one's societal niceties. “Some idiot managed to loose a Cockatrice in the sewers, I had to take care of things.” He sighed with a grimace

His companion chuckled “I wish I could say something that stupid would only happen here...but honestly it isn't the first time I've heard or seen it. Maybe not always a Cockatrice...” she trailed off, bemused.

The female Witcher was friendly, companionable even. Idle chatter becoming less of a chore for Geralt, finding himself warming to the easy banter of another on The Path. Before long Jaskier had arrived back at their table balancing their food and drinks.

“You will be performing tonight Jaskier?” prompted the female. Although her body language appeared tuned to Geralt, he watched her eyes measuring every move the bard made. “I really missed hearing your lovely voice while I was away.”

“Yes. Of course.” The bard responded, laying out their plates. Roast duck with roast potatoes and green beans. Geralt snagged a goblet of wine before it was dropped by a fumbling Jaskier, eyeing the bard who began blushing intently. “Any requests?” he managed, seeming to gain a foothold on his emotions finally.

The female Witcher side eyed Geralt with a smirk over the rim of her own goblet “How about 'Toss A Coin to Your Witcher'?”

Geralt groaned dismally and she barked out a laugh.

She leant over and gave the bard a light smack on the arse as he turned away. A command following it “Make sure the server keeps the wine flowing, lark.” 

“Yes Mistress.” The pair of Witchers both heard the sharp intake of breath, and the bard's heart beating a sharp vibrato in his chest as he took off to begin his performance for the evening

The female Witcher smiled fondly before turning to her food. She could feel Geralt's eyes on her as she began to eat. “What?”

“Nothing.” But damn it, he just couldn't let himself leave well enough alone. He didn't know what it was about this woman. Perhaps it was the strange behavior for another Witcher? Perhaps it was the fact that this was his completely unfazeable, flirtatious bard that she had somehow wrapped around her finger? His friend, though he wouldn't admit it, and utterly confused as to this completely different side of the bard. “What are you to Jaskier?”

The female Witcher's lips twitched in a slightly mischievous smirk “Surely Geralt, you've been around long enough to know the ins and outs of a brothel.” she innocently responded

The larger Witcher's lips pressed together and he furrowed his brow, unimpressed. “Yes. But this is different. He...” he trailed off as the first few notes of the bard's song made their way from his lute across the room “He's...different.”

His gaze was brought back to the female Witcher as her warm, smaller hand was laid across his wrist to garner his attention. She looked upon him fondly this time “Sometimes people need something...something more than a dirty fuck. They have...needs that need attending to. I'm helping Jaskier meet those needs.” she replied softly with a shrug.

He looked to her hand. No one had touched him this casually, this unflinchingly in a long time. He looked into her eyes and saw no malice. She looked at him with such openness in her expression that he felt his insides twist in an uncomfortable way. She removed her hand and he snatched up his wine goblet to drain it. Witchers didn't feel, and they certainly didn't 'need'.

“It's all about trust. I'm not here to give him a relationship, Melitele knows with a Witcher's life that isn't really possible, nor is that why he seeks me out.” She continued, unperturbed by her companion's silence “But should we find ourselves breathing the same air, well, it can't hurt to play.”

She trailed off, waving to the serving girl to bring over more wine. The staff knew to pay extra special attention to any friends of their boss, even in the somewhat crowded tavern. 

“Most women are too tied up with 'what is expected' to be able to see past all that and dive into the far more interesting desires people have.” she murmured, low enough that only Geralt could hear “I'm a Witcher, I have the luxury of nothing being expected of me. Well, at least, people already treat us like the plague so why bother trying to hide?” 

She took the wine bottle the serving girl brought over with a smile that belied the solemn speech she was delivering. Refilling both their cups, she looked back to the bard with a wistful smile “Besides humans live such fleeting lives, why not help them live out their desires when I find one worthy.”

“Hmmm...I don't know about 'worthy'.” Geralt mumbled lightheartedly as the familiar chords to 'Toss a Coin' started up. For some reason he couldn't bear to see the dismal look that darkened the female Witcher's face.

His companion laughed heartily. A few nearby patrons turning to the sudden noise even over the general murmur of the tavern. Geralt hid the smile that pulled at his own lips behind his newly refilled goblet. The pair drank in companionable silence, the female's fingers tapping along softly on the wooden table top to the upbeat tunes Jaskier was turning out. He was really giving his all to this performance tonight. Although not really a rarity, Geralt had no misconceptions about exactly who the bard was primping and preening for on stage. The look in his companion's eyes as she lent on her hand to stalk the bard like prey, showed that she too knew the he was showing off for her. The look she gave the bard was hungry, and hot, and damned if Geralt couldn't help but kind of wish that look had been directed to him instead. No doubt he could have any woman here he wanted, paid or not. But the deliciously sinful promises of fulfilling needs that his fellow Witcher had spoken of made him pine for a touch that was not bought, from a partner he could freely not fear hurting.

Jaskier finished up his performance with a flourish. He bound to their table, dodging patrons and receiving the kind commendations of his performance on the fly. The audiences were always naught if not warm towards the popular bard these days. He leant his hip against the table, glowing and slightly out of breath. He reached out and snagged the goblet from Geralt's hand. The white haired Witcher caught off guard and gaping at the audacity as the bard drained the last from his cup. “So, what did you think of my performance?”

“Bard.” Both Witchers intoned at once

Jaskier's eyes went wide, glancing quickly from one to the next before dropping his gaze. The female Witcher stood suddenly, yet calmly. Focused on Jaskier as she pushed the partially full bottle of wine towards Geralt. “I must apologize Geralt. It is clear the boy needs to be retrained on his manners.”

“I...but...I mean...I didn't...” she cut Jaskier short with a lowly growled “Upstairs. Now.”

The flustered bard bolted for the stairs, the scent of his arousal thick on the air. The female Witcher smiled after him, sinfully predatory, all fangs and dark promises. Geralt could feel the arousal prickle over his skin just from that glance. She looked over to Geralt. “It was wonderful to meet you Geralt. We must do this again some time. Now, if you'll excuse me.”

He inclined his head slightly. She turned and moved after the bard and Geralt turned his attentions to finishing the third bottle of the same delicate red wine that had accompanied their meal. He was decisively not thinking about what was going on in the bedrooms above his head. Sure he could probably listen in with his Witcher hearing, pick out the soft dulcet tones of the bard and his companion above should he concentrate. But he wouldn't. 

He wouldn't. 

Self control.

The wine, though a nice distraction was all too soon gone. With a full belly and after days of getting little to no sleep on the road, he found himself contemplating his bed. Though cold and without company it may have been. He drug himself up the stairs and into his room. Usually these rooms would not be rented out like a hotel, for use of those staffing the brothel and their clientele. However since it had come into Jaskier's hands Geralt could always rely on it as a place to lay his head, accompanied or not was to his discretion. The white haired Witcher shucked off his clothes, preferring to sleep nude when the opportunity presented itself. Although a lock on the door was no guarantee, he still kept his swords close, and a dagger beneath the pillow...just in case.

He closed his eyes, sleep began to find him quickly. That is, until his preternatural hearing picked up the goings on in the room next to him. Familiar voices and...noises creeping in uninvited.

~ Smack ~

The sound of flesh impacting with flesh. An open palm. Not enough to injure, but enough to sting, at least a regular human surely from the sound of it.

“Can't keep your hands to yourself.”

~ Smack ~

“Behaving so poorly in front of one of my colleagues.”

~ Smack ~

“Geralt must think I can't even manage to control a bard!”

~ Smack. Smack ~

A whimper broke the monologue. A whimper Geralt knew all too well. Jaskier. Though this was not the whimper of fear he had heard on more than one occasion from the bard.

“No...not...not just a bard. Your bard. Mistress. I am sorry to have displeased you.”

Silence for but a moment.

“You are right. My bard indeed. I was going to treat you tonight, show you dizzying heights after so long apart...but perhaps I need to reaffirm what belongs to me. Ruin you, until the only thing you can think about for days is me.

A whimpered cry of wordless arousal is all the response it seems the bard can muster. And fucked if Geralt can't deny he likes the sound of that too. His traitorous cock seems to have conveniently forgotten about keeping to himself. Forgotten about giving his friend and the other Witcher their privacy. He was already becoming hard. No one has to know. This could stay between him and his hand. 

Shuffling. The sound of leather belts and buckles being adjusted. A groan that is decidedly Jaskier.

“I should leave you like this my bard. Tied up, aroused, it is what you deserve after all.”

Geralt was staring intently at the wall, as though he could will his damn Witcher eyes to see through it. Alas his imagination would have to do.

“No. Please. Mistress. Please allow me to make it up to you.” 

The desperate begging of the bard.

“I live to serve you Mistress. Please. Please give me something.”

A dark chuckle from the female Witcher. The sound of a bottle being uncorked. Of wetness, the slick slide of flesh, and then a throaty gasped groan from the bard.

“More. Mistress. Please.”

“Greedy little lark. Be patient. My metal cock is not as forgiving as flesh. I need to prepare you first.”

Oh. Oh! Geralt's eyes slammed shut at the thought as he palmed his hard length. Fuck. That explains the leather, the buckles. He's seen those contraptions before, the leather harnesses that skirt about the hips, a base to nestle a false phallus in. He's never really seen the use for one, after all if he wanted a cock he'd simply go find himself a willing man...or two. Not hard to come by, at all. But he couldn't deny the though of the female Witcher with a fake cock strapped over the curves of her hips, towering over him, tied to a bed at her mercy...well it did things to him. Things he really shouldn't have been picturing as he fisted his cock to the sounds of her fucking his best friend in the next room.

The sound of a tongue against skin. The suction over the heated flesh of the bard's length. A pleased hum muffled slightly by the flesh within it. The slick sounds of oiled flesh, easing the stretch, preparing the way for something larger. 

The bard grit out an overstimulated sob.

The wet over exaggerated 'pop' of a blow job cut short

“Do you think you are ready for me my lark?”

“Please Mistress. Please. I'll be good. Please.”

Geralt grit his teeth, huffing out a breath as he began to stroke himself in earnest. Imagining those fingers were in him, that mouth on his cock. He ached for more as he brought his own fingers from the hand not fisted around his cock, to his mouth. Sucking on them quietly. Wetting them, to make what he was about to do go a little easier. He was no shy maiden, but his hand shook as he took his fingers from his mouth and moved them down his defined abdomen. Avoiding his cock already occupied by his other hand, past his heavy balls, and lower to tease his own hole. Pretending just this once that they were someone else's...someone unquestionably more female than he. 

The sound of something decidedly not flesh making its way slowly into the bard's body. A reedy cry from the bard followed. Some shuffling and a gentle noise from the female Witcher.

“It's alright lark. Look at you, such a sweet, greedy boy, taking all of my cock in deep like that.”

“Fuck” Geralt's curse was muffled into his pillow as he thrashed his head to the side, quickly sliding a second finger in with his first. Imagining it to be the metal cock of the woman next door. Imagining that praise for him as the arousal bloomed hot and low in his gut. Thankfully Jaskier chose the same time to whimper out a cry at the praise that, had Geralt not already felt his arousal overtaking him, he would hope covered his own. He couldn't find it in him to feel embarrassed, in fact the thought of what the domineering female Witcher might do to him should she decide to come over and catch him was not at all unpleasant. At least not the sordid fantasies his horny brain was throwing at him.

Slick noises of fucking. Jaskier's whimpers becoming louder, morphing into cries of passion, broken sobs and curses.

“You. Don't. Get. To. Cum. Until. I. Say. Lark.” each word punctuated by a thrust

A desperate cry from the bard.

“Mistress please”

“Not until I fucking say. Tonight you are mine. Your fucking cock is mine. And it doesn't cum until I fucking say!”

Geralt found himself squeezing the base of his cock as the fingers of his other hand finally brushed over his prostate. He was staving off his orgasm. He wanted her to tell him when he could cum.

“Mistress. Yes. Mistress. Please.”

The bard's whimpers were high and anguished.

Geralt knew both the bard and himself couldn't last much longer. Especially if the female Witcher was setting as rough a pace against the bard's prostate as he was setting upon his own, imagining her cock inside himself instead of his own fingers.

“Go on then. Cum. Sing for me my little lark.”

Jaskier's high pitched moaning shout cuts through the room. Blessedly masking any noise Geralt may have made as he hit his prostate with such force he swore his vision went white for a moment. As he came back down from his gut wrenching orgasm, removing his fingers from himself, he heard the soft murmurs in the next room.

“Such a sweet boy. You did so well. You are forgiven for earlier, after such an astounding performance my lark.”

The sound of a harness being removed and cast aside. Ropes being unbound. Of kisses shared. Of hands gently petting over skin and running through hair.

Geralt felt his insides clench. This time it had nothing to do with arousal, and everything to do with him, laying in a bed, with a handful of his own rapidly cooling seed. Utterly, hopelessly alone. He wiped away the mess against an area of the sheets he wouldn't be touching through the night. These beds had seen far worse after all, and so had the maids who would come to clean the rooms in the morning. 

“Here sweet lark, drink this and sleep. Let me look after you.”

Geralt rolled over, covering his ears with a pillow and his bicep. Muffling his cursed Witcher hearing and his cursed supposedly non-existant but very apparent Witcher feelings. He bit down the feelings of jealousy bubbling through him. He couldn't bear to hear any more of the gentle care that accompanied the rendezvous. It did things to him that he just wasn't ready to inspect in the cold isolation of his dark room. Things that reminded him all too harshly of the lonely path he was on, of the undeserving monster that he was. He was finally able to will himself into an exhausted, yet still not very fitful sleep.

Morning dawned and Geralt cursed the sun that cut it's way through the curtains of his room which he had forgotten to pull closed the night before. Memories of last night coming back all too hard and fast as he quickly wrenched on his clothing and armor. Nothing better for pushing down the thoughts and feelings of ghosts past than to go take on a few Witcher contracts after all.

So consumed in his thoughts was he, that as he left his room, he almost ran into a certain flamboyantly irritating bard.

“Oh Geralt! Morning!” The bard chirped at him

“Fuck off bard.” Geralt grit, pushing down the embarrassment that threatened to creep up on him after what he had done last night

“Come now that is no way to speak to your best friend!”

They were interrupted by the door to Jaskier's room swinging open. Golden eyes glowering out at them. “Lark you are far too loud for so early in the morning”

The bard's eyes immediately averted in submission from the female Witcher “I brought breakfast Mistress.” He offered, bringing everyone's attention to the tray laden with food in his arms.

The female Witcher sighed, but took in Geralt's form with a calculating look. He almost felt like shuffling his feet, almost. He felt like he had been caught out, like she knew he had been getting off to their tryst last night. She hummed before stepping aside to let the bard enter with the tray of food. “Come eat with me Geralt? Once again the boy has brought far too much food.” He was going to refuse but was cut off as she held up her hand “Besides I have a contract I could use your help with. Will you hear me out over breakfast at least?”

He wanted to disagree. He wanted to turn and get the hell out of there. To leave behind the memories of last night. But his traitorous body denied him once again, this time as he let out a noncomittal “Hmm” and followed her into the rooms.

They sat at the small table by the window where Jaskier had laid out the tray of food. Geralt took a seat, all at once realizing as the female Witcher sat too, that they were one seat short. It seemed Jaskier reached the same conclusion as he brought over glasses of fresh water to accompany their meal.

The female Witcher pulled the cushion from behind her back and placed it on the floor by her feet. The bard's eyes darted hesitantly to Geralt, who made to stand. His female counterpart's hand shot out to stop him.

“Jaskier” a threatening tone entered her voice. It was all the warning the bard needed it seemed as he averted his eyes and dropped onto his knees on the pillow by her feet, a blush settling in high on his cheeks as he avoided Geralt's eyes. She nodded with a small smile, one hand drifting down to play with the bard's hair. She guided his head to rest against the outside of her thigh and the bard began to relax. Geralt tried, unconvincingly, to avoid looking at the scene before him. Not out of disgust, but rather jealousy. How long had it been since he'd been touched with such gentle care? Had he ever? These days it felt like every gentle touch he received from his bed partners had been conditional, reliant upon what he could have or had done to further their goals.

“So Geralt, this contract.” She directed his attention towards the food before them as she began to serve herself and cut the food before her into mouthfuls with the side of her fork “It appears that a couple of mated Griffins have nested too close to a village a few days ride from here. From what I can gather the townspeople tried to burn their nest out to get them to move on, but it has just agitated the beasts and they are now attacking the village. I know it isn't necessarily a two man job, but the lord is fairly well to do and the reward is quite large...”

She tilted the bard's chin up towards her, offering him a mouthful sized bite of bacon from her fingers without breaking a stride in her explanation. Geralt watched, transfixed, as the bard, took the bite gently. Seemingly completely forgetting the white haired Witcher in the room at all. Chewing and swallowing with a content look on his face as he closed his eyes and leant back against the female Witcher's thigh.

“...after all how often is it that you are presented with the chance to work with another Witcher! Two will make the job go faster, probably smoother too...”

She continued alternating feeding various bite sized breakfast foods and providing sips of water from her cup to the slowly relaxing bard at her feet. Carding her clean hand through his hair or stroking down the nape of his neck as though she and Geralt weren't sat here having a conversation. 

“We can split the coin 50/50.”

Geralt's attention and the roiling jealousy in his gut was cut short as he stood abruptly. “Fine.”

She eyed him evenly, placing a hand on Jaskier's shoulder before standing as well. The bard seemingly pulled himself from his reverie as he stood too.

“We'll meet in 20 minutes at the stables. That should give us both the time to pack any provisions we may need for the journey.” the female Witcher offered, walking past Geralt to open the door

He nodded, leaving the room swiftly. He couldn't help but look back as he heard the other Witcher stop the bard with a kiss and a soft utterance. “Go shine brightly my little lark. Have a wonderful day.”

She ushered Jaskier out, shutting the door behind him. 

Geralt turned, Jaskier hot on his heels.

“Isn't she remarkable!” The bard hummed dreamily

Geralt grumbled as he started down the stairs, sorely tempted to smack the bard upside the head. He wanted to wipe that ridiculous look from his face...and maybe a little of it was spite. Maybe a little more than even Geralt himself was willing to admit.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this for a while now. Originally it was part of a three part series (with the ability for the parts to stand alone as well) but the other two parts haven't come to me as easily as this. I might create a collection at a later date if I can get the rest of the story to come together.  
> Comments and Kudos mean the world.
> 
> If you enjoyed feel free to shout me a [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/redreaderinsert)


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